


Fetch The Boltcutters

by Twoleaves



Series: Echo Sex Pollen [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fingering, Liz gets sex pollened, Masturbation, Self-Doubt, Sex Pollen, liz feels unworthy of love, max loves her anyway, mysterious alien chemicals, vocal consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twoleaves/pseuds/Twoleaves
Summary: Max and Liz venture out into the Roswell desert in search of extraterrestrial answers and instead find some earthly satisfaction.
Relationships: Max Evans/Liz Ortecho
Series: Echo Sex Pollen [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707802
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Fetch The Boltcutters

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all!
> 
> It's been a couple years since I wrote anything but what with the world we're living in, here I am!
> 
> I hope you enjoy, I initially wrote this as a Max sex pollen and then decided I liked the interplay between Liz sex pollen and their relationship dynamic more but I still have the other fic sitting in my drafts, it just needs some more attention.
> 
> this is totally unbeta-ed and a lot of it was written quite high at 2 am
> 
> I'm hoping to help contribute to the gaping hole of need for Echo smut in this fandom
> 
> CW: finally, this is tagged dubious consent because it's sex pollen but other than that the consent is quite vocal because Max will never believe Liz wants him quite as much as she does

Liz Ortecho was the queen of escape.

She was a fighter, yes, but where Liz really shined was in her ability to run. 

She traversed deserts and rivers, reached oceans and shores.

She travelled thousands of miles to escape the pain of losing Rosa.

Liz had been avoiding Max all week, trying to focus on sorting through her feelings about Isobel murdering her sister, while simultaneously developing an antidote to keep her alive. She had enough going on without factoring in her high school lab partner who happened to be an alien, and had been in love with her for fifteen years. Liz didn't do relationships easily, she didn't do attachment without a fight, she didn't know how anymore. 

Given all this, Liz was absolutely overjoyed at having been stuck, all day, hiking through the New Mexico desert with the very object of her avoidance, looking for anywhere else alien material could have been stowed near the crash site. 

She hadn’t initially wanted to be the one out here alone with him, but Michael had dropped out at the last minute.

Max had come by The Crashdown to pick up some lunch and a shake before heading out, and when Liz heard he was planning on heading out into the desert alone, she decided she had no choice but to volunteer. 

It had been hot and frustrating as the sun beat down and they found themselves seemingly no closer to finding anything. At this point it was getting dark, and Max had already declared that they were going to have to camp out for the night. 

Liz was putting the finishing touches on pitching their tent while Max built a fire. Once she finished her task, Liz ventured over to find Max laying down the last pinion branch on the small fire, leaving it unlit for later.

“Do you wanna take one last look around before the sun sets?” Liz asked as she zipped up her fleece against the cooling night air.

Max looked up from his work, greeting her with that small smile that always graced his lips when she came around. He clapped his hands together, sweeping off the splinters before looking back up to meet her eyes. 

God, those eyes, every time he took a second, gathering up all his attention before giving it to her, it made her heart clench just a bit. Even when she felt like Max Evans was a stranger, he could reach into the deepest parts of her soul and _see_ her. 

“Let’s go.” He emphasized the statement with another clap of his hands.

As they wandered back out into the desert, Liz looked out over the darkening orange earth, hooking her thumbs into the straps of her backpack. As she surveyed the barren land, dotted with patches of pinion bushes and yucca, she noticed an arch rising up, just a little above the ground, like the entrance to a cave. 

“Max!” Liz called to get his attention as he looked off in another direction.

Max’s head swiveled quickly to find Liz and assess any danger, eventually he realized she was gesturing off into the distance towards a little mound in the earth. Before he could catch up, Liz was off and running. 

Once she got closer she could see why it had been so hard to find, the cave was nestled down into a small crater, so the entrance was impossible to see from a distance. Liz jogged towards the cave, reaching it long before Max. 

As she approached it, she reached into her backpack to grab a Maglite and illuminate the contents of the cave; it wasn’t very big, not more than seven or eight feet deep. The cave contained a couple of crates and a small shelving unit with hundreds of microscopic vials. Liz started to step into the cave just as Max skittered down the edge of the crater. 

“Liz! Wait! It could be dangerous! Liz!” Max called.

Liz ignored him and proceeded into the cave, approaching and examining the vials just as Max appeared over her shoulder.

“What is this place?” Max asked as he tilted his own flashlight to look around. 

“I’m not sure but this stuff doesn’t look too earthly to me.” Liz replied, leaning in to examine the labels on the vials.

“The crates don’t seem to be marked.” Max responded as he ran his hand over the black material. 

“Max, come look at these. I can’t read the labels but this kinda looks like medicine.” 

Max swung around despite the small space, snagging one of the vials with his outstretched flashlight as he turned, causing it to fall to the ground, shattering. 

“Shit!” Liz whispered as she sprung back, throwing her arm out to try and pull Max back with her. 

“We should get out of here.” Max immediately declared, his deep voice echoing a little in the small space despite the low volume. 

“Yeah.” Liz agreed quickly, taking Max’s hand as she walked back out into the lightly chilled Roswell dusk. 

Liz’s head swam as she reached the center of the crater. She stopped walking for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. 

By this point she had dropped Max’s hand but he came up next to her, crowding her space just a little, to check on her. 

“Liz, you okay?” Max asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Liz tried to brush him off as she took a deep breath. She couldn’t focus with Max this close to her. The moment he’d walked up, she could feel her heart pick up as everything around him blurred into the background. 

Liz collected herself enough to stumble up and out of the crater; but, after her difficulty getting up the shallow incline, Max had come up beside her, wrapping an arm under her shoulder blades to help support her. They walked like that back to camp together, Liz silently trying to reason with the pulsing need she felt every time the side of Max’s torso brushed against her. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her. She was always _aware_ of Max, but now it felt like her body was attuned to a wavelength all his own, every move he made reverberated into her. 

When they reached camp, Max helped Liz settle down next to the fire, ducking away to grab a blanket and some matches from the tent. 

“I’ll be right back,” he reassured. 

While Max was gone, Liz’s mind raced trying to figure out what was wrong with her. Her skin felt hypersensitive, maybe the result of heightened circulation from her pounding heartbeat? She could also feel wetness pooling against her labia. 

The longer Max was gone, the more her skin started to itch and crawl. She couldn’t quite identify it, but something felt profoundly wrong. Her hands fidgeted as she sat in silence waiting for Max to return. 

Liz turned her head to find she couldn’t see Max, meaning he had to still be rooting around in the tent for the supplies. 

Feeling secure in her temporary solitude, Liz let a lone hand wander between her legs to press on her clit. Despite her intense arousal, the touch provided no relief, and actually hurt a bit. 

Liz was an independent woman; normally she could bring herself to sheet-fisting, wake-the-neighbors orgasm, something was off.

In her frustration, Liz got caught up experimenting with different strokes and didn’t notice Max’s return, still rubbing herself through her leggings when she heard the soft tumble of something falling to the ground. 

When Liz opened her eyes, Max was standing in front of her, empty arms still outstretched as the blanket and matches he’d been carrying lay on the ground in front of him. 

Max was staring at Liz, his mouth flapping open a couple times like a fish before he turned his back to her, raising his hand to redundantly cover his eyes as well. 

Despite being utterly nonplussed at finding Liz Ortecho sitting out in the open dirt of the Roswell desert stroking her own pussy, Max still had enough decorum to find his voice. 

“Uh, Liz,” Max cleared his throat, trying to abandon some of the roughness that steeped his voice, “do you need some space?” 

Liz didn’t know what to say. 

She couldn’t exactly explain that she was inextricably, incredibly horny, that she was simply trying to find the right way to rub her pussy to alleviate some of that tension, that she was sorry he found her, but really, what was she to do? Then she’d lay on the puppy eyes and hope that he fucked her until she forgot what it felt like to be unsatisfied.

Liz felt like her own mind had gotten away from her. 

“I think I need to go to bed.” Liz finally concluded. 

Max kept his back turned to her as he nodded his acquiescence, “Yeah, no problem. I can lay this blanket down and sleep under the stars.” 

Leave it to Max to try and make sleeping on a single blanket, alone, out in the desert, sound appealing, to assuage any guilt she could have over his offer.

Nothing sounded worse to her than going back to that tent alone. 

“Max…” The way she said his name was enough to get him to finally turn to face her. 

She wanted to beg him to help her. 

She wanted to ask him to ravish her.

She wanted to feel him everywhere.

She wanted to feel him _anywhere_. 

But as she looked into his eyes, Liz couldn’t say anything.

As he stared back at her, his eyes begging for release from the bonds of this conversation, Liz couldn’t ask any more of him than he gave her everyday.

She could see the restraint he was trying so hard to conceal in the tension of his shoulders. 

Max couldn’t love Liz without loving all of her, and Liz was too damaged to offer that to him. 

Loving all of her meant infecting him. It meant unleashing reminders of every time she’s cut and run, every time she’s felt betrayed, and in turn betrayed him, only to learn he’d done nothing wrong. 

Liz couldn’t _be_ loved in the way Max needed to love her. 

She could withstand it in doses, but Liz didn’t deserve all that he had to give, and she didn’t know how to return it. 

Liz didn’t know how to love the way Max did. 

Liz had learned how to build walls, insurmountable, until she readied herself to run again; she’d learned distance and consideration over dependence and passion. Liz couldn’t crack open her sternum and wrench apart her ribs, exposing her heart the way loving Max required. 

Liz was strong, but strength required a structure; a framework, scaffolding, a cage around her soft and squishy parts. 

Max was strong in a different way, all his soft parts lay exposed, prime for manipulation by her hand. He opened himself up and accepted the risk. 

Instead, Liz planted her hands in the dirt behind her, and did her best to rise to her feet with grace. She teetered a little, but righted herself quickly. 

It was hard to meet Max’s eyes, but she did for a moment anyway, “Goodnight.” 

Liz turned to walk the couple of meters back to the tent.

When she took her first step, her whole body was overcome with the feeling she was going to sob, but she ventured on. 

When Liz reached the tent, she unzipped the flap. 

She ducked in, purposefully avoiding glancing in Max’s direction while he set to work lighting the small fire.

Now on her knees to accommodate the small size of the tent, Liz dramatically threw herself down onto the mass of sleeping bags she’d laid out in the time before her mind turned to mush. She decided her first step should be to undress, at least a little. 

She shucked off her fleece, t-shirt and leggings, leaving her in only a black lace thong and her light blue bralette. The air in the tent felt suffocating, it was sticky and clung to her skin in a way she didn’t know air could. 

Liz wasn’t really sure what to do next, her limited exploration out by the fire had been the opposite of a success. When she reached down to circle her finger around her nipple through her bra, she realized she could barely feel it. Frustrated, Liz divested herself of her second to last piece of clothing, throwing it angrily at the side of the tent, causing the material to balloon out for a moment at the impact.

She had a tension in her lower abdomen like there was a climax built up within her, but every time she tried to push herself over the edge, it either felt numb or hurt. 

She once again tried to tug at and circle her, now bare, nipples with her fingers, but nothing helped. 

“Fuck!” Liz screamed in frustration, not taking time to consider the man sitting a thin tent sheet away, “Fuck! Fuck!” Liz finished the tirade with a shrill groan of annoyance.

Despite the outburst, the tent remained untouched. 

Liz had no recourse left and let her hand fall to her side as a tear slipped down her face. Trying to touch herself caused a stabbing pain, but lying here unfulfilled was an aching that was just as bad. 

Finally, hopelessly, Liz whispered, “Max?” 

Within seconds the light from the fire was gone as Max took the time to bury it carefully before coming to stand outside the tent flap. He wasn’t going to enter until she told him to. 

“Liz?” He questioned, as calmly as he could.

“Max, please.” She couldn’t muster the energy or wherewithal to sit up and let him in.

When Max zipped open the tent flap, his mouth dropped slightly as he took in the debauched scene. Liz was sprawled out on a mess of sleeping bags, her torso propped up by her pack and her legs akimbo, leaving her shining lips peeking out of the tiny strip of fabric she apparently believed to be underwear. 

Max was overwhelmed by the sight, freezing in the entryway. 

Liz was less distracted, trying to spur him into motion with her plea, “Max, I’m sorry, I need your help.”

At this, Max was able to shake himself out of his reverie long enough to come fully into the tent, zipping it up behind him, and settling on his knees in front of Liz, between her outspread legs. 

Max trained his eyes firmly on Liz’s face once he sat down. 

It was amazing to Liz the way Max’s body filled the tent, she felt dwarfed by his size in the best possible way. Despite being on his knees, Max towered over her. 

“What do you need?” Max asked in the register of his voice that was reserved for moments like this, moments when the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen lays naked, spread-eagle in front of you, asking you to ‘help her.’

“I think I just need you. I need… I need… I need _you_ to touch me.” Liz breathed out. 

And that was what she meant; she didn’t need a specific touch, she specifically needed whatever touch Max wanted to give her. 

Finally, Max touched her.

At first, it was just a hand skating uninhibited up her naked side, causing her whole spine to curve into his touch. 

Then, he let his other hand skate up her inner thigh, starting down by her knee and landing only a few inches short of her throbbing center. He looked up again to affirm her consent before letting the tips of his fingers tease the outside of her folds. Even from there, he could feel her wetness seeping out. 

Max looked completely enraptured by what he was doing, so much so that Liz almost didn’t wanna distract him to urge him along. 

Slowly, his fingers dipped further in, coming to caress up and down her lips, spreading around her moisture. 

Max looked up at her with an almost pleading look in his eyes and Liz couldn’t imagine what he was about to ask. 

“Can I taste you?” He asked quietly and completely earnestly. 

As Liz looked down at Max she almost couldn’t fathom the man in front of her, simply nodding her head in lieu of actual response. 

Instead of licking into her pussy as Liz had been expecting, Max withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his own mouth before drawing them in hungrily. As much as Liz deeply mourned the loss of contact, she could not deny the noticeable pulse of need through her body as Max wrapped his lips around his own fingers and sighed quietly in satisfaction. 

It took him a second but Max looked up to meet her eyes, muttering a quiet, “sorry,” before his bashful face dropped and he returned his fingers to her labia. 

It was at that point that Liz realized Max had no intention of going down on her, not unless she asked. He just wanted to taste her so bad he would go to the trouble of asking her if she was okay with him licking her essence off his own fingers after he had penetrated her. 

“Max, I need more. I need you to touch me, how you wanna touch me. I don’t need _a_ touch to get me through, I need _your_ touch to ground me and get me there, okay?” Liz tried to convey how much she needed Max, but she wasn’t even sure how to articulate it at this point.

Max seemed to understand, just like Max always understood. There was a brief war behind his eyes as he weighed the danger of letting go, against giving her what she needed. 

Eventually, Max plunged his index and middle fingers inside her after only a few quick swipes around her hole, eliciting a slight yelp out of her that quickly transformed into a deep and heady moan that got louder as Max’s fingers continued to dart in and out of her. 

Once she managed to flip whatever switch she had flipped in Max, it didn’t take long for her to get some release. Within a minute or two, Max was circling her clit with his thumb as his other fingers fucked her and Liz was arching her back, trying to push down onto Max as much as she could as some of the tension finally released from her body and her orgasm swept through her. 

After she had cum, Liz felt like the capacity of her lungs had expanded and she could breathe again. She didn’t feel satiated, but she felt less like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. 

When she looked back up to meet Max’s eyes, she could see the apprehension in them and rushed to reassure him, “Thank you, I feel like I can breathe again.” Liz smiled lightly.

“Are you okay?” Max questioned, his voice still deep but colored by concern. 

“I think I will be. The chemical seems to have caused increased arousal, muscular tension, heightened respiration and heart rate, but symptoms seem to be eased with sexual climax.” Liz reported in her best clinician voice. 

“Okay…” Max managed to laugh a little despite himself, “Are you good now?” He tried to ask the question in the most normal way possible while his drenched fingers were still laying right against her sensitive opening, subconsciously hesitant to pull back any further than strictly necessary. 

“Not quite yet.” Liz smiled, pulling on Max’s forearm, dislodging the arm that had been holding him up, causing him to collapse on top of her. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> leave comments and kudos if you want me to continue this or comment any Echo prompts/thoughts you have!


End file.
